


Melon Soda

by Samsara



Series: Yes, Homo [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Experimentation, Falling In Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hot Weather, Ice Cream, Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Nonverbal Communication, Queerplatonic Relationships, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4253436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samsara/pseuds/Samsara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were a living stereotype of dumb guys who were best friends, often dirty minded but always harmless. They liked that about their friendship. They were living up to the hype, but they knew just who they were at the end of the day. Matsukawa, the all-too-mature looking high schooler with an adoration for word play and 'that's what she said' comments, and then Hanamaki, the closet otomen with a secret love of thigh highs behind closed doors.</p><p>Maybe they weren't entirely the stereotype, but they enjoyed acting like they were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melon Soda

**Author's Note:**

> I'm slowly falling into MatsuHana hell and I'm not sorry.

That summer had been one for the books. The kind where people ask years down the line what others did to stave off the heat, or how they kepy cool. Most people would have simple replies, such as saying they went to the beach or simply stayed inside with the air conditioning at full blast. Other people would make up lies about how they were never too affected by the heat (even when it's hitting record highs) but everyone else always knew better. Other people would say they'd work out, playing sports or games to cause their bodies to cool them off au naturale. But for some people, the heat would end up being the last thing on their minds. Sure, it was a great time of year for them to indulge in spending time down at the flood plane, skipping rocks along the water or even illegally jumping in and splashing about. Yet, even with these methods those other pressing matters would still outweigh the leisurely atmosphere that came with summer heat.

  
Such a matter was that of how to tell if they were in love with their best friend.

  
Relationships like the one between Matsukawa and Hanamaki were common in high school. Two guys, both well known enough by the student body to be gossiped about, but not well known enough to have enemies -- it was a trope that was even mimicked in television dramas and anime. They were a living stereotype of dumb guys who were best friends, often dirty minded but always harmless. They liked that about their friendship. They were living up to the hype, but they knew just who they were at the end of the day. Matsukawa, the all-too-mature looking high schooler with an adoration for word play and 'that's what she said' comments, and then Hanamaki, the closet otomen with a secret love of thigh highs behind closed doors.

  
Maybe they weren't entirely the stereotype, but they enjoyed acting like they were.

  
It had been a scorcher. A record indeed, with temperatures hitting a whopping thirty-eight-celsius, and forty with humidity. The kind of day where streets remained barren save for the smattering of cats and dogs that wandered the neighborhoods. Normally the sort to bark or hiss at passersby but with the weather as sickeningly warm, with skin as sickeninigly sticky to boot, nothing alive really had the motivation to complain about the single pair of teens walking through the streets.

  
It had been a trend of theirs over the years; the first major heatwave of the year and Matsukawa and Hanamaki would hit up each and every ice cream parlor between their houses. The six mile walk had (at last check) fourteen stores that sold ice cream, that mean two and a third (or something like that) every mile. That meant two and a third ice cream treats every mile, and for the pair of athletes that sounded just fine.

  
It had been a tradition they had started going with when they were in junior high, starting in their first year. After the two of them had discovered they had both begun to play volleyball together, they'd discovered that they were often a combination of too tired but too energized to go directly home. On more occasions than not, Matsukawa was still eager to keep going, but Hanamaki too willing too get home and crawl into bed. But with the two of them being young and a friendship just starting to bloom, Hanamaki opted to power through for the sake of his new friend. Instead of taking the next stop on the train to the one nearest his house, he'd get off the prior one with Matsukawa and the two of them would walk all the way to Hanamakis, and hop on the train and head home himself.

  
While they were still young, Matsukawa would sometimes end up carrying his friend on his back, needing to ensure he arrived home safe. As they got older, sometimes it would result in it being the other way around. Often on those occasions, Hanamaki was all too willing to show off that despite Matsukawa's larger build, he had the stronger upper body strength.

  
Their excursions along the six mile strip were what often cleared the air between them. Even when they ended up argued with one another, they'd both wind up at opposite ends of the road and meet in the middle. The three miles each that they'd walk would be enough alone time to let each of them mull over their disagreements, and once they crossed paths they could get everything off their chest.

  
It was one way that they had managed to keep the friendship going so long. It had its bumps in the road like any relationship but like an old married couple, they often found it was those bumps that kept them going.

  
The summer in question had only started about a week or so earlier, and with school having had the air conditioning cranked up as high as it could go before they let out, the reprieve to personal air conditioned homes and cafes was a much needed escape. Though it hadn't reached the astronomical high of the second week of summer break, it was still enough that many teachers were ignoring the students who had come in with sleeves rolled up or skirts hitched up too high. Everyone was hot and with exams being the more serious concern, dress code was the last thing they were heavily enforcing.

  
But now with the break underway, sleeveless shirts and shorts with sandals were the common attire, leaving Matsukawa to gawk hungrily at teenage girls in their skin-tight camisoles and ill-fitted shorts and Hanamaki all too pleased to sneak a peak under a too-short sundress. Summer bonding at its finest for the duo.

  
Yet, when it was really boiled down to the bare minimum neither boy was actually all that interest. They just liked to do it to hear girls scream at them, with good reason of course. It was a creepy gesture and they often wound up getting slapped and lectured for it. Even so, they never learned.

  
Perhaps it was because it was the most they could do to curb their own interests. Particularly in each other.

  
Matsukawa had spent the night at Hanamaki's the previous night, the two of them making a point of staying cool by sitting in front of the air conditioner lovingly installed in Hanamaki's bedroom. Together, they cracked open the couple of beers his brother had bought for them during his summer break from college. Sure, they were underage but it wasn't much of a delinquent activity for them. There was much worse they could be involved in, and they could be doing a lot more than just drinking three cans a piece. They were simply drinking to enjoy it -- not to get drunk, not to party. It was too hot to risk throwing up, anyways.

  
There hadn't been any particular reason that the two of them had decided to spend the night together but it always had its perks, whether there was cause for them to be together or not. They never exactly needed a reason anymore. One or the other would show up at the others house, take their shoes off and say hello to whoever was downstairs before heading to the others room for some quality time.

  
Lately, however, quality time had been starting to dip into a strange territory. Often it was winding up with the two boys gradually stripping lays of clothing with palms outstretched and fingers pressed to the flesh of their abdomens. Exploratory territories that came from three years of built up tension while changing for volleyball practice where one or the other would catch themselves eyeing the other, silently deciding " _You've matured just fine._ " before brushing off the feeling.

  
They had rarely gone further than cautious, wordless caresses, attempting to find out if the others body would respond the same way theirs would while enjoying some personal time under the covers later at night. Seldom did their trousers come off and even less so did their curiosities become sexual in nature. Even with their excursions with one another growing more frequent as their final year of high school approached its last days, neither could admit the reality that they'd actually completely gone all the way with the other. It had been buried, as it should be. They would admit it when the time was right.

  
Matsukawa had opted to crawl atop of Hanamaki the night before, the two boys stripped to just their boxer shorts due to the heat, their chests rippled with goosebumps from the crisp air being circulated into the room. It wasn't a necessarily spontaneous gesture as earlier that night the two had been ignoring the television in favor of placing hands upon the other to compare. Almost ritualistic in execution they would often mirror each other, matching up their hands on the other in a pseudo reflection. With the news announcer still ignored as he rambled on about the climate change of Japan in a most recent study or finding or whatever Hanamaki had made his way on to his bed. With the lamp turned off and the glow of the television lighting his way instead, Matsukawa barely had enough visibility to make sure he could get a leg on either side of the other male.

  
He had been poised over Hanamaki with arms outspread and pressed into his, holding them against the mattress. With fingers woven together, Matsukawa simply looked him over, ignoring the feeling of his hips pressed into the other males. Not overly sexual from contact alone, all he would need to do was rock his hips against Hanamaki's a few times to get blood circulating and give the two of them another reason to need the air conditioner at full blast. Prying a hand free from Matsukawa's grasp, Hanamaki reached toward him, palm pressing at the lower half of his chest, allowing his fingers to brush gently down to his abdomen. Matsukawa had never been the most fit of the boys at Aoba Johsai. He ate a lot more than the others and it showed in the way his stomach rolled into the slightest of pudges instead of growing firm and taught with muscle definition. He liked that about Matsukawa. He was sturdily built but far from perfect. Where Iwaizumi Hajime, the Ace God of Seijou was blessed with a virtually hairless torso and abs to boot, Matsukawa was his contrast in bodily perfections.

  
His fingers brushed against the dark trail of hair that began at the bottom of Matsukawa's navel, tracing down to the elastic of his boxer shorts. Hesitant, Hanamaki rested his hand there, as if waiting to be pushed away from his long time companion. Staring at him with cool, narrow eyes, a tooth tugged at his bottom lip deliberately in an attempt for Matsukawa to call him out on it.

  
"Cute," Matsukawa commented, falling for Hanamaki's trap as he smirked in respose to the barely shorter male nibbling upon his lip. "You nervous or somethin'?"

  
Brows furrowed, glowering at Matsuawa whose expression became mischevous, his lips tugged into a smirk at this rate. His hand didn't pull back from the waistband, remaining in place to suggest that nerves were the last thing affecting his actions. Nerves were no longer a concern for either of them, as exchanges were redundant. Neither of them necessarily had to speak to one another to admit that they were certainly attracted to the opposite male. Perhaps it was because it was something neither of them _had_ to talk about. They just sort of _knew_.

  
"Why would I be nervous?" Hanamaki asked, deciding to withdraw his hand. If Matsukawa was interested tonight, he would do something to win him back over. Either he would begin touching Hanamaki in the same way, or he'd guide his hand back to his waistband and encourage him to continue. "This isn't the first time we've gotten in bed like this."

  
Matsukawa grasped a hold of Hanamaki's newly freed hand, returning it to his abdomen, wordlessly saying that he didn't want the other to stop touching him. Another instance where they didn't need to exchange words for the conversation to continue. With the hand upon Matsukawa once more, he hooked a finger behind the elastic where the trail of hair met the garment and gave a tug. Flexing them around the waistband, he pulled, sliding them down, cautiously undressing Matsukawa and freeing his cock from the clothing. He wasn't hard, but he didn't need to be for Hanamaki. Not when they were like this.

  
Glancing downward, Matsukawa's gaze followed Hanamaki's hand, silently accepting that his friend wanted him freed from his clothes. Resting his hand over his friends, Matsukawa shifted himself up on to his knees to pull his boxers down, shifting from one knee to the other in order to remove them entirely. He didn't need to make a snide remark or to tease Hanamaki, after all he was the one stradling the others lap in the nude. Hanamaki's hand still rest at where the boxer shorts had rested a few moments before, and with his head propped up on the pillow of his bed, he was left to simply admire Matsukawa a moment. While there was definition in his arms and legs, there was so little in his torso. Lines separated his stomach from his pelvis at the very least and there was just enough muscle grown in his chest to show off the faintest line of pectorals, but compared to anyone else he was rather unremarkable and plain. A little hairier than the other boys on the team, he at least kept himself groomed and trimmed around his cock and balls. While many guys (in Hanamaki's knowledge) were prone to letting things become overgrown, he wasn't displeased by the way his friend mainted the hair that surrounded his flaccid length. In fact, he was quite sure he liked the display.

  
"Why aren't you hard yet?" Hanamaki asked, bringing his hand down to touch Matsukawa's cock, sending chills through the larger teen. "I thought that's why you were on top of me." Lips parting and a brow raising in response to the question, Matsukawa leaned back over him, brushing his hand over his forehead.

  
"You have a fever?" he asked, only somewhat dumbfounded. "I don't have to be hard to want to touch you." The hand rest upon his forehead a moment, his finger curling around some of the thin, wispy bangs that hung loose.

  
"Well, maybe I want you to be." Hanamaki admit, shifting his grasp on Matsukawa's other hand, the blood now circulating poorly, causing the limb to tingle as it fell asleep on him.

  
The news anchor still continued on, the glow of the television making the lighting darker as a commercial with a night scene took over, changing the atmosphere between the two teens. With the bristly hairs of Matsukawa's neck already on end fro Hanamaki's hand brushing against his cock, the almost ashamed but honest way he spoke caused a squeezing in Matsukawa's chest. Nodding his head he released the others hand, a low laugh slipping free.

  
"Then get me hard," he said, taking this as an invitation to rock his hips firmly against Hanamaki's groin as he sat upon him. "I'm not arguing."

  
The single bit of contact Hanamaki's hand had with Matsukawa's cock was enough to at least get his heart racing. He rested his hand upon Hanamaki's, urging him to take a hold of him. They never had to do much to get the other aroused, and Matsukawa admittedly was easily turned on by many things, so thinking about Hanamaki touching him alone was certainly already working in their favor. Only lightly brushing his cock for the time being, Hanamaki instead turned his focus to the seemingly enthraled expression that rest on Matsukawa's face. Watching how his hand worked at taking his cock in his palm and essentially transforming it into a steadily hardening erection amazed him.  
Anyone could get him hard, but it was the mere fact it was Hanamaki that inspired him.

  
"Your hands are warm," Matsukawa commented, his breathing suddenly having gone from soft and patient to shallow and almost labored. A few minutes prior he had been soft and all too content with that, but with the feeling of Hanamaki's fingers rubbing and brushing against his flesh, he was content with being erect, even if he did feel himself already just slightly overwhelmed.

  
"Of course they are," Hanamaki commented, his hand now wrapped around his cock, stroking him rhythmlessly. "You wouldn't want a handjob from a cold hand, would you? Why would you want a cold, clammy zombie hand jerking you off --"

  
"Hey, I could be into it."

  
"I'd _know_ if you were into it, Issei." Hanamaki retorted, utilizing the males given name to get his attention. The two boys took their attention off Matsukawa's now stiffened member in Hanamaki's grasp for them to share an excited laugh with one another. It was moments like this that kept things alive for them, for their relationship (friendship as they were so quick to defend) moving without flaws. The ability to laugh through the sexual encounters with one another and to talk out their arguments. Some married couples never even got as close as they did.

  
"You gonna rub one out for me?"

  
Further wordless communication as Hanamaki's wrist began to guide his hand in slow, cautious strokes along Matsukawa's length. Leaning up somewhat on the bed, he debated sitting up entirely either for more ease at stroking him, or perhaps to shove his tongue down Matsukawa's throat as well. Yet, he opted against it, continuously stroking, contemplating changing things up compared to how he normally would get him off.

  
"...Why don't we just fuck?" Hanamaki asked, releasing his hand from Matsukawa, beginning to wriggle free from beneath him, waving a hand to insist Matsukawa lift himself off his hips. With the weight off of his pelvis, Hanamaki clutched the fabric of his boxers and wriggled them down, beginning to pull them off with his toes to fling across the room. "We haven't screwed around like that since what? My birthday?"

  
"In January? What's with you and extreme temperatures, didn't we have a blizzard that day?"

  
"Yeah, and that's why we fucked. Your mom didn't want you walking home. You stayed here. We took off our clothes. We fucked. End of story."

  
"You're seriously trying to tell me that in record breaking heat, you want to get sweaty and sticky and take my dick up your ass?" Matsukawa laughed, reaching a hand to pat against Hanamaki's face, playing dumb to ignore the pout on his lips. "Can we wait for the heat to break at least? I was barely up for letting you get me hard right now."

  
"Tomorrow then," Hanamaki retorted, dropping the look of displeasure on his face, to replace it with a sly grin to convey his ulterior motives. "I call the position -- I'm kind of in the mood for all fours."

  
"Who's on all fours then?" Matsukawa asked, removing himself from Hanamaki's pelvis to lay on the bed next to him. "Me or you?"

  
"Ask me in the morning."

  
That was just how they operated. No hard feelings (aside for Matsukawa who had to attempt to silently get himself off as Hanamaki proceeded to quickly pass out next to him) were felt between them. Frankly speaking, they had been attempting to arrange a night where the both of them could experiment again, but things often got in the way. Exams, practice, heat -- the list was rather extensive, and even though they had only attempted to have sex on a few occasions, they'd only ever committed to it twice with each of them taking their turn at giving and receiving.

  
Morning came and resulted in an expulsion of some of the tension from the night before as a now-boxer-wearing Matsukawa hooked an arm around Hanamaki's waist and lured him over for a hungry and almost foul tasting morning kiss. Lasting only a few seconds before Hanamaki pulled back, he shoved at his friend, demanding he brush his teeth before either of them made out with one another. With the hint taken, Hanamaki listened to the weather report on the television -- the hottest day so far at thirty-nine degrees. So much for one of them getting on all fours later that night.

  
" _But it does look like we'll be seeing a break in the weather tonight with rolling thunderstorms starting at about five this evening. So break out those umb--_ "

  
Or perhaps not.

  
It was an ice cream walk sort of day. With Hanamaki dressing in some of yesterdays clothes -- tan khaki shorts and a pretentious looking surfer tank with multi-color stripes of various widths stretching across it with the word "Relax" scrawled in English on the front in a gaudy cursive font -- he tapped on Matsukawa's shoulder as he tugged on his shirt, waving a couple bills in front of him.

  
"I'll treat this time." he said, covering his yawn momentarily.

  
"In this fuckin' heat?" Matsukawa asked. "If I don't wanna fuck in this heat, I sure as hell am not going for a walk."

  
"I'll buy you two at every store. No questions asked."

 

And thus they were back at the start. The thirty-nine degree weather was enough to nauseate but with two ice pops in his hands, Matsukawa couldn't complain. Hanamaki would have been happy to complain but time spent alone with Matsukawa was worth suffering through the heat for. Even more so because the storms would come later that night to take the edge off and their quality time together could be spend more appropriately.

  
In each of Matsukawa's hands he held an ice pop -- one melon, one soda -- which he had opted to continuously switch back and forth eating, trying to suggest that melon soda pops would be a fantastic creation. Only moments after saying that, did he realize they do exist and he was just being forgetful.

  
"A few too many balls to the head, huh?" Hanamaki commented, lapping up a mouthful of softserve with his tongue. With his elbow Matsukawa shoved Hanamaki to the best of his ability and failing thusly. Opting to hold the melon popsicle in his mouth, his hand -- already sticky from the dripping juice -- gave Hanamaki the shove he justly deserved.

  
The day dragged on like this. Each shop, Hanamaki would fish out the yen for their treats and each shop Matsukawa would have to wash his hands off from how quickly his treats dripped onto his hands between the banter that took place between them. Despite the heat and the mugginess in the air, the two teens were comfortable going back and forth, exchanging absurd ideas ("Mattsun, do you think, if people had wings we'd consider it exercise and never fly anywhere?") and even more absurd responses ("Huh. Maybe, but if we had bat wings we wouldn't have hands. We'd just have like. Super webbed hand-wings.") as they went from store to store.

  
It wasn't until they were in their fifth mile that the atmosphere began to change. A couple of breezes began to pick up in the late afternoon. Though the crispness to the breezes was enough to make both teens relax, putting any of the heat-induced stress on the back burner, it was still enough of a change in atmosphere that the conversation had to be put on hold a moment.

  
"So, if it starts raining I can crash at your place til it's over, right?" Hanamaki asked, staring at the clouds slowly rolling in overhead. "Your mom's not gonna mind, is she?"

  
"She better not," Matsukawa commented, removing the strawberry ice pop from his mouth. "She's working tonight, so I can't imagine she'd care." Stirring another laugh from Hanamaki, Matsukawa turned to look at him, his hand folded into a small fist as he held it to his mouth to cover his teeth. He'd been insecure about them before hadn't he? He'd had braces when they started high school, if he recalled correctly. "C'mon you don't need to hide your teeth anymore. There's no metal on 'em now."

  
Lowering his hand a moment, Hanamaki stuck his index finger into his mouth running it over the smooth enamel of his teeth, admiring their texture. "You know, I forget sometimes. I had them for so long." With the finger withdrawn, he ran his tongue over his teeth instead, doing so almost mindlessly.

  
"You still wear your retainer every night though. You sound like a lisping idiot. You call me Ithei. It sounds like you're calling me 'easy' in English." Hanamaki shoved him again, listening to the chuckle that caused the other males chest to raise and fall. But he too found humor in the scenario, holding his hand to his mouth once more as he continued to share in the moment with them.

  
Matsukawa's laughter continued another moment, the sound dying out before Hanamaki's as he was left looking at the other boy. The way his lips pulled into a smile, and the blissful way his eyes closed, and the glow on his cheeks as he enjoyed the moment. Matsukawa laughed a little more, softly as he bit off a mouthful of his popsicle, slurping it down. Choking slightly on the juice as he swallowed it, he spoke:

  
" _I love you, Takahiro._ "

  
Looking up from his hand and the shaved ice he was about to take a mouthful of, he stopped in his laughter. He had paused and was looking at Matsukawa with some sort of curiosity. It hadn't been an unpleasant pause, but shortly after, he began to laugh again.

  
" _I love you too, Issei._ "

  
He took a mouthful of his shaved ice after that, slurping it down eagerly. They continued on, moving on to the next shop for their last round of ice cream before heading back in. There were a few plips of rain starting to come down, but nothing more than a light sprinkle.

  
"You know," Matsukawa said, "I think I could go for hamburger steak next instead. How's that sound?"

  
And somewhere between Matsukawa's statement, and the last stop on their ice cream walk, their hands had linked together.

  
And that was just how they liked it.


End file.
